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Ranch Cup 2010: Games 1 – 3

Marlboro Man, the kids, and I started playing soccer this week. Well, we pretty much started an entire exercise program that begins with the following:

1. Running to the second cattle guard and back.
2. Dying.

You see, I have a problem.

A couple of problems, actually.

1. I don’t run on gravel.
2. I don’t run.

In other words, I’m in purgatory.

After Marlboro Man and the kids finish our family run to the second cattle guard and back, they sit and take an hour-long water break while they wait for me, the heart of the home, to finish our family run. Then they give me oxygen and CPR and the kids ask Marlboro Man things like “Is Mama going to make it?” and “Who will make us mashed potatoes?” and Marlboro Man just shakes his head and says “I don’t know, kids.”

Then we head over to the soccer field, which overlooks our hay meadow.

Then we play a family soccer game. And here’s how it goes:

1. Marlboro Man and the boys against the girls and me.
2. Play to 3, unless the girl’s team gets to 3 first, then Marlboro Man and the boys decide we’re playing to 5.

While the official purpose of this nightly family soccer game is fitness and quality family time that doesn’t involve livestock, the soccer game inevitably spirals downward into a cutthroat competition between the two genders represented in our family. It’s brutal. It’s the most vicious thing you’ve ever seen.

I decided to keep a record of our soccer games here on Confessions of a Pioneer Woman, both as a motivation for me not to move away and quit because it’s too hard and hot and sweaty, and so Marlboro Man won’t be tempted to fall into the trap of revisionist history and somehow say the boys came out on top at the end of the summer.

Last night, as I was trying to decide the name of our soccer game series, I knew I wanted to play on “World Cup”. Isn’t that a brilliant, innovative idea? So I asked Marlboro Man his opinion on some possibilities:

“How about ‘Soccer Cup’?” I asked.

“Too obvious,” he answered.

“Cowboy Cup?” was my next suggestion.

“Well, that leaves out the girls,” he answered.

“Athletic Cup?” I said.

Marlboro Man looked at me. “Athletic Cup?”

“Oh,” I answered. “Never mind.”

Then Marlboro Man tried to work in the first letter of our last name. “How about ‘The D Cup’?”

“What are you saying?” I demanded. “Are you saying you wish my bosom was bigger?”

Then Marlboro Man left the room to do something productive with his life.

I ultimately decided on “Ranch Cup” because we live on a ranch. I’m deep like that.

Here are the results of the last three games:

MONDAY

We start playing. I complain to Marlboro Man that he’s too fast and runs at me with such might that I curl up like a roly poly and surrender. He tells me I need to toughen up. My baby steals the ball from me, passes it to his father, and his father scores. My hair becomes soaked in perspiration and my girls don’t listen to my direction at all because they correctly recognize that I know nothing about soccer and was trying to coach them based on my own erroneous understanding of the game. I get mad that they don’t take my direction and schedule a family therapy session. My baby buries his Captain America figurine in the ground while my older boy scores twice.

Boys win 3 – 1. I seethe.

TUESDAY

We start playing. My energy is at an all-time low. I complain to Marlboro Man that he’s trying to shove with his arms and he says the players do that in the World Cup all the time and I say this isn’t South Africa, it’s Oklahoma. My baby runs at me like a banshee and I’m afraid he’s going to kick me in the shin so I pull back and he steals the ball from me, passes it to his father, and his father scores. My clothes become soaked in perspiration and I consider applying for Big Brother or Amazing Race or The Real World or some place that would involve my living in another location for the next two months. My girls rally and put a hurtin’ on the boys. I give them both high-fives, which hurts my shoulder.

Girls win 3 – 1. I have to be carried to the house.

WEDNESDAY

We start playing. I have a renewed sense of purpose and I get my second wind. The boys score right out of the gate, and I complain to Marlboro Man that he’s a former football player and therefore has an unfair advantage. He tells me to seek help for my many issues. I steal the ball from him and score, then consider running for Congress because I feel I can do anything. Then I get kicked in the shin by my baby and cry, and complain to Marlboro Man that he did not provide me with the proper safety equipment. I ask him if he has Worker’s Comp and he tells me to get in the game. My girls both score and we win, and the boys say we’re playing to 5. Then we score two more times.

Girls win 5 – 2. Marlboro Man doesn’t sleep all night.

I sleep like a baby.

Then I wake up at 2:00 am with muscle spasms.

Then I go back to sleep.

Then I wake up at 3:00 am with throbbing joints.

We won’t have a soccer game tonight because Marlboro Man has to go to the farm.

Ha! Just started riding my bike with my son as our summer fitness program … I forgot how much that hurt, as well. Wish I had a *farm* I could send my son off to today. Ree, would you like an 11 year old? He’d be great help around the ranch!

Jan

I just want to live with your family on the ranch… Please

Alyson

Sorry….should have been “after I graduated.”

Karen

Your writing puts a smile on face the first thing in the morning. 🙂

http://www.card-making-ideas-and-instructions.com C.C.

lol… still laughing at “D Cup”. But I have to say, “Ranch Cup” just makes me want some carrot slices to dip in it. 🙂

I didn’t start running ’til I was 49 (53 now), and I’m training now for a half marathon. Soccer? Yeah, not so much.

http://sewfordough.wordpress.com Sewfordough

That’s so hilarious! I love the part where the guys want to play to five when they are losing…just like my husband does! Whenever I beat him at anything, we have to play again as soon as possible. Oh, the thrill of victory!

KraftyKritter

Hee! Athletic cup and D cup, TOO FUNNY!

Margaret

Sometimes you just have to fake-it until you make-it. Keep pushing, we are all proud of you for working on family physical fitness. (If you take an aspirin before you go to bed, it will help with the aches and pains.)

AmyDinOKLA

Go Girls Team!!!!!

http://breathelove.redbubble.com Jessie

I hate running too. You’re doing an awesome job. You’ll hafta get crafty and make ya some fancy shin guards and then the boys won’t know what to do with you running at them like a banshee.